Category: Social and life

For those of you that are new to my blog, I am from a town called Newcastle on the east coast of Australia 180km north of Sydney. The town is has a population of about 300 000 people, currently the city is going through a period of rapid change, to the outside the changes are small and not noteworthy, but for us novocastrians these are giant leaps forward.

A couple of weeks ago the Newcastle Herald had an article asking for people with ideas for ‘How to spend a billion on Newcastle’ set by the Newcastle institute

It wasn’t a challenge, Newcastle needs so many things, so I quickly and roughly scrambled together three that had been on my mind for a long time. Fast forward to a few weeks later after being selected from 40 people, me nervously shoving together a power-point presentation of my half formulated wacky ideas.

I wasn’t nervous at the presentation until I looked up and saw about 150 patient grey haired individuals all waiting for what I had to say, something happened I can’t explain and I didn’t deliver it how I wanted.

I learn’t a valuable lesson in putting forward an idea as a presentation, sometimes the way you address the audience your energy and your enthusiasm rather than the actual nuts and bolts of the idea, can seriously sway people. The next day the article by the Newcastle Herald was poor, predictably listing the craziest ideas for Novocastrian’s to have a laugh at, and forgetting to list one of the most important ideas mentioned, that of making our city run totally on renewable energy, the idea (not my own) that really caught mine and the audiences imagination.

Someone asked at the end of the presentation about what will happen to these ideas, nobody seemed sure exactly and we left with an odd feeling of despondency.

Here was the idea I presented.

INSPIRATIONAL LIBRARY FOR NOVOCASTRIANS

Surry Hills community centre

SUSTAINABLE DESIGN

INTERGATED WITH COMMUNITY

PLACES FOR ARTS ORGANISATIONS

PLACES FOR CLASSES

READING ROOMS

CHILDCARE FACILITIES

GENEALOGY CENTRE

NEW COMPUTERS AND TABLETS

CULTURAL COLLECTION DISPLAYS

Not long ago I was walking through Surry hills and I came upon the ‘Surry Hills public library and community centre’ I was totally blown away; the space is an inspirational temple to great architecture and design.

I just wanted to go in there and spend some time just reading, I urge people who haven’t seen it to pop in and have a look.

It was created by Architects: Francis-Jones Morehen Thorp

Why can’t Newcastle have something like this?

Surry Hills community centre

The existing Newcastle library is not inspirational to visit, it has its charms but it really isn’t a functional modern space for learning.A Library like Surry hills centre would be integrated with the community and provide resources for everyone not just students.

The library has facilities and areas that arts groups and festivals can utilise to organise events that make Newcastle an exciting place to live.

It’s a place for everyone.

The Library site would be the existing site, and be built with plans to link into a new Art Gallery using the same architect

We should design the appearance of library to have some consistency in style with university and with a potential new Art Gallery.

Morristown public library New Jersey

My idea also incorporates smaller but equally well designed modular libraries rolled out over all of Newcastle

With the billion dollars we can roll out gold plated Libraries for all of Newcastle, making us an intelligent and connected city

Smaller similar modular libraries for inner city and outer suburbs

Broadmeadows Farmers Markets Upgrade

Findlay farmer’s Market, OHIO

PERMANENT FIXTURES – WELL DESIGNED SHELTERS

ENTERTAINMENT AREA OR AMPHITHEATRE

PLACES FOR EFTPOS MACHINES

DESIGNED AREAS FOR SELLING PERISHABLE GOODS

MODERN TOILETS AND SEATING

SUSTAINABLE DESIGN, SOLAR ENERGY

MORE BIKE RACKS AND BIKE PATHS

DRINK FOUNTAINS

SCULPTURES OR ARTWORKS

Broadmeadow farmers market is I believe the most popular markets in Newcastle, this has been the most successful place for markets in Newcastle.

If something is successful, support it!

However why does the infrastructure at the markets feel so run down and out-dated?

The markets are retrofitted to existing buildings that were constructed for the Newcastle Show years ago, something which is a once a year event.

The Markets is every weekend, rail hail and shine.

It’s time this place had a facelift.

The markets upgrade is not just a frivolous spend, this is an injection for the local economy.

These markets have already created multiple small business start-ups in Newcastle, people start with their idea at the markets and then expand.

This should be encouraged and even a special fund should be created to help these enterprising and creative marketeers

Entertainment Quarter, SydneyFindlay farmer’s Market, OHIO

The markets upgrade is not just a frivolous spend, this is an injection for the local economy.

These markets have already created multiple small business start-ups in Newcastle, people start with their idea at the markets and then expand.

This should be encouraged and even a special fund should be created to help these enterprising and creative marketeers.

Inspirational Green Spaces and Pocket parks

We have lots of parks in Newcastle but I think it is fair to say they are either in suburbs that don’t utilise them or are mainly for sports.

Our inner city could do with more inspirational green spaces or pocket parks.

Pocket parks are the solution to this common “lack-of-green-spaces” problem. Pocket parks, also known as vest-pocket parks or mini-parks, are just a smaller version of a regular park. All that is needed is a vacant lot.

London has over 100 pocket parks, Newcastle could do with just a few!

My plan is to do an Audit of our parks in Newcastle and locate potential spaces and vacant lots in the inner city

When the best sites are located we will have a major a roll out of 20 or so well landscaped and designed pocket parks.

(WHAT I SHOULD OF ENDED WITH)

What my vision for Newcastle is of that of well designed city, with more green spaces and for people to learn and meet.

I just woke up, after having the most vivid dream which I wish to share with WordPress before it is gone forever. I am largely a rational scientific person when it comes to dreams, I take the psychology road in that the chaos of the many inputs into your experience outputs sometimes in dream sequences.

This particular one reminded me of a dream sequence from computer game Assassins creed, or from a scene from Game of Thrones. It was ancient Egypt, this was clear because of our dress, I was in the back of a large carriage that had the outsides covered in muslin shading us from the sun and any others.

I was accompanying a powerful female.

I was not sure of her title, or position but there was defiantly one of fear on my part in this situation. She had power and influence and I did not, I was nervous it seemed that I had to ‘do’ something here and was not sure how it would play out, I had pressure.

She was young about 23, very short tiny and slender her head faced forward without looking at me for a very long time as if I did not exist (yet I was right next to her). Her youth gave the impression of being naive but I seemed in confusion about this, I was scared of looking at her face with a sort of knowledge it was taboo going near the region of her eyes.

Many things rushed through my mind in the back of the carriage, mainly that ‘I just had to get through this trip’ and ‘Whatever you do don’t look her in the eyes’

My role was not clear, I was not a peasant, nor was I of the administrative class, I wasn’t nobility either I seemed to be some form of warrior with some political influence. Thoughts about large groups of people passed my mind, about change and how things could be changed here, did she know this too or not?

Her long slender hand seemed placed in an inviting position, facing towards me. I spent what seemed like forever deciding what to do here, as if knowing this could be the biggest mistake of my life and probably end in death. I placed my hand on top of hers and she retracted her hand in a slow but delicate manner, then seconds later as if she had thought it through she placed her hand back and kept looking forward.

At this point, great possibilities rushed through my mind, real change was possible but also of emotion, the dream came forth very powerfully here. A relationship was being formed, but it was not lurid no sex scenes or eroticism, it was a formation of a alliance and a knowing this was part of her role.

Even knowing this, I was excited full of hope, love and change it was my time to come forward.

The dream ended here in the back of this cart.

On introspection it seemed a very stereotypical historical dream, disappointing even, It seemed to me later when I was awake like she was a Cleopatra figure, and me like Marc Antony the great typical love story in history that’s where a modern brain like mine would go on the topic of ancient Egypt, all that stereotypical imagery from modern sources.

Yet the dream was largely ambiguous, it wasn’t even clear if she was a Pharaoh I was left with the huge emotion of the dream, like the leftover wreckage from tidal wave, also I had some historical insights that I might not normally arrive at. It occurred to me after the dream that a female Pharaoh or Queen like Hatshepsut was able in a way subdue and enamor potential enemies via relationships, rather than form enemies as a male pharaoh might do.

Queen Hatshepsut (18th Dynasty c.1473-1458 BC)

The dream felt epic, much too epic for the normal fodder of dreams, when I woke I was convinced this needed to be shared.

But now I have actually put it down here in WordPress I am not so sure, other peoples dreams can be so boring.

Just recently I visited a meditation class, I have been to quite a few meditation classes in my life.

I keep attending these classes because I really like the idea of learning how to meditate, I know I can do it in my own home in a quiet corner of my house but it is always enjoyable to be part of a group that is focused on mediation. I have tried a western stoic based meditation class, Tibetan Buddhist meditation and several other new age type Meditation classes.

The one thing that I have noticed in all these different styles of meditation classes is there is plenty of bullshit you have to wade through before you can gain some good advice for focusing your mind on meditating.

To put it bluntly I am not really into the spiritual part of meditation but lean more towards the the scientific, I look at its benefits in ways it can reduce stress in your life. That’s not to say that I don’t find the spiritual aspect interesting I am just unsure if it is integral to Meditation.

I find this a very good explanation of meditation: “We define meditation… as a stylized mental technique… repetitively practiced for the purpose of attaining a subjective experience that is frequently described as very restful, silent, and of heightened alertness, often characterized as blissful” -Jevning et al

Sometimes I have noticed that meditation classes turn into a kind of counseling session, sort of like a self help group for people who can’t relax it can sometimes get a little out of control and start to take over the actual meditating.

My main concern at the classes however is the thinking behind the institutionalised practice of the meditation. Tibetan Buddhism styled meditation is a religion, it is a practice that is undertaken every day by monks for centuries the aims are religious in nature, as an atheist I am always aware that I can’t just disconnect that and just take the meditation without this element of spiritualism.

“Most techniques of meditation do not exist as solitary practices but are only artificially separable from an entire system of practice and belief ” -R.E Ornstein

It is the same with some western styles of meditation, taken from western philosophy or from a mixture of east and west they combine systems of practice and belief many of which are centuries old and which sometimes gnash uncomfortably with the modern mind.

O.k I know what you are all thinking, if your going to pick apart meditation you are totally ‘not getting it’. I have I wish to point out, faithfully practiced institutionalized versions of meditation, it is usally afterwards when I go back to using the tools that have been suggested that the religious and spiritual elements bug me enough to stop meditating.

Realistically meditation is something you do sometimes, it can help you de-stress and to become clearer in life and has real health benefits but it has it’s limitations.

I find you have to kind of force yourself to meditate or train yourself to be in a meditative state. It really isn’t a thing that ever comes naturally.

Meditation really is an enigma, you have to focus intensely on not focusing on anything which creates a kind of classic philosophical paradox of the mind.

Once in a Tibetan Meditation session I was told my goal was not to ‘think’ I found it very hard to believe they where serious, however I gave it a shot and my reaction was to hit a kind of brain malfunction cycle- ‘don’t think, don’t think, don’t think. Breathing exercises have the same result if you are told to focus on breathing you will focus on that..breathe breathe I am breathing breathe you are concentrating on breathing.

Which prompts me to ask, then why can’t we as humans just do this thing; this important de-stresser and evolutionary release valve, why isn’t meditation just part of something we all able to do easily on a daily basis?

Evolution made us stressed up and highly strung, unable to meditate.. maybe because there was always that leopard waiting behind the bushes to eat us.

During the week while giving blood I lost consciousness, it seems from the outset a fairly benign thing to happen. Before this experience I thought of fainting as relatively common thing, not really something to to fear or feel dread towards. But the experience has left a mark, enough to warrant a little discussion.

I give blood on a fairly regular basis, (every 12 weeks or so) my records showed that I had given blood 9 times previously without any issues, I had drunk plenty of water and eaten before giving blood. My blood pressure was good and my heartbeat was healthy.

While watching the blood travel down the clear plastic tube I felt an uncomfortable pain in my stomach, at first I did not feel too concerned but very quickly the nausea increased. I felt the light of the room dim, a wave of anxiety come over my body that was not warranted. The colour of the room changed in tone from bright white to yellowish tinge. It was then that I knew something was wrong, this was reminiscent of an experience on LSD, I knew that my body was not O.K.

I politely raised my hand to the nurse, simply because I wanted to rip the needle out of my arm, it was one of those moments that warranted an instant response but it seemed to take huge gulf of time to get anyone’s attention. The next moment was simply black, I had passed out.

When I came to, I saw my legs raised in front of me with about five people around me opening their mouths but I could not hear anything they said, I was unaware of where I was, or who I was. I looked around like a new born baby unaware of anything. Very quickly I recovered the world was still grey which could of only lasted less than half a minute. I broke out in an intense fever like sweat and temperatures seemed to change in my body, until they stabilized

The nurses gave me oxygen, it took me half an hour to return to normal I was at work and started to face some ridicule from some people at my work that were also giving blood in the blood bus, the social implications of my passing out was the last thing on my mind.

A few days after the event when the horribleness had warn away it occurred to me just how trippy the experience was, how bizarre not knowing who I was or where I was. It was a reminder of how mortal we are. I don’t think as people we are invincible, but I had not really contemplated just how small the gap is between living and dying.

There is also a kind of stigma attached with people who faint that had never occurred to me before as if they are weak or frail individuals, some people in my workplace seemed to be unable to see that I was putting myself in harms way to help others when I fainted.

There was a cross examination from all parties and questions raised by people. One was the inevitable ‘maybe you should not give blood’. The nurses explained that this just happens sometimes, you are taking blood out of your system some people faint.

However I got a phone call a few days later from the blood people suggesting that maybe I should not give blood anymore, I had convinced the lady to keep me on the register but just the suggestion that she would take me off after what I had been through really upset me.

Philosopher Peter Singer asked a blood donor why he gives blood in his book about altruism ‘How should we live’ the donor answered ‘No man is an island’.

Every year generations of school children will be condemned to hours of shuffling around doing the heel toe heel toe polka, bouncing around the hot and smelly school halls of Australia.

Bush dancing seems to be one of those odd rituals in Australia that seem to resemble something we can call an identity and culture but oddly never really has become part of the collective imagination. Funnily bush dancing is not particularly Australian, nor is it really carried through into any real cultural practice or into a career unlike ballet, drama or fine art.

Our nation that is famous for it’s masculine obsession and prowess for sport seems to take the time to ‘indulge’ in bush dancing. Primary school children in between the grueling ordeal of having to try every sport that is humanly possible take a break and learn a highly organised form of dance, something seemingly feminine and creative.

For those of you who are unaware of Bush dancing, it is essentially square dancing for retards.

“Bush dance – in general has less emphasis on complex foot work and more about people being in the right place.” -Wikipedia

There is no succinct explanation of why it is called bush dancing, other than the obvious fact that people first danced in halls surrounded by the Australian bush. One might surmise the influence of colonials who encountered Aboriginal tribes who had complex mating and courtship dances. The bush dance could be a European reaction to the courtship rituals seen by the Aboriginal people, a benign form of the mating dance.

The music of Bush Dancing is essentially folk music with songs like “Bound for South Australia” many have a sea shanty feel about them, many of the songs sound similar and they are rigged to sort of ‘fit’ the rhythm of organised dance.

Many ideas from our colonial past linger here, Australia once a proud, prim and proper nation believing in strict Victorian christian principles. In this environment dances and courtship rituals took place under the watchful eye of a local moral enforcement agency. For some insight it’s good to read a paper from the time to get an idea of just how far people penetrated into others personal lives.

This may explain why we still have these rituals in our schools, a country which still has Queen as the head of state and who is steadfastly glued to it’s murky European convict past, it should be no surprise that a Victorian courtship ritual remains there as well.

There is no harm in this cultural practice, but what is the relevance to kids today? These days Australian youth trundle off to rock festivals every year hammering themselves into mosh pits, dancing up a sweat at bush doof’s fueled with alcohol and drugs finding themselves grinding up against each other in their first sexual encounters.

This experience of Australian youth today is so remote from quaint organised Victorian world of bush dancing.

Bush dancing is resolutely daggy but in a strange way this could be in someways its savoir. Modern hipsters have a knack of finding outdated and daggy practices and making them cool again.

I have been thinking about my blog and the way I want to portray myself.

In a way you put yourself as an ‘authority’ on something when you do reviews and talk about different subjects in life.

Reviewers are pipe smoking types retiring in their library while they contemplate the finer points of the things they review. I would like to dispel this myth and distance myself from these haughty types

My place on this earth is one of peasant proletariat worker, and my days are very ordinary ones. My aim here is to empty out the contents of my day and go over it like a crime scene, and expose them for everyone to see.

5.30am

This is my alarm clock and it is on my wife’s side of the bed.

I wake up early because I start at 6:30 am, at the moment in Australia it is fairly cold 13 degrees in the morning which makes it hard to get up.

This particular morning before I had a shower I found my cat Ling ling who decided that he would really like a pat. I spent a little bit of time tiredly contemplating animals and their link to humans. What he was thinking and how he was so reliant on me. He seemed to really enjoy this petting but I had to get ready and I felt sad like a parent abandoning a child.

Ling ling

5:50am

Shower, I spent a fair bit of time daydreaming in the shower, I was contemplating a documentary about poisons that I had watched the night before. Did you know that Botox was extremely poisonous?

As I got out I was still a little sleepy and half the contents of the cabinet fell out onto the ground including a $20 dollar bottle of sleeping droplets my wife bought.

‘Sorry, shit sorry’ I said as I looked at this strange yellow liquid that smelt very odd. I spent some time looking at the orange liquid on the white bathroom bench top before cleaning it up, it made me think that it may be a kind of poison it certianly looked very noxious.

6:00am

Stare off into wilderness at kitchen table for 5 minutes.

6:10am

This is my house it’s usually not this light when I leave it.

Put shoes on and leave house, For those of you who are wondering “what about breakfast”. I don’t have breakfast that’s just me I don’t do breakfast.

6:12am

Hop in my car. It is a 2002 blue Kia Rio, it’s basically a piece of crap and keeps breaking down, I have very little love for it because when I was an Auto electrician I learnt to loathe all things car related.

Today to increase the enjoyment of my journey I put on a brand new episode of the ‘ Sunday Night Safran’ podcast, which is exciting because they have been away for 6 weeks. I giggled away as I drove in the dark.

This isn’t actually my car but it’s the same colour and model

6:20am

Call into servo and buy a coffee and say g’day to Lyndal lady who works behind the counter. ‘The coffee machine is working today’ she usually says. I often go to find the coffee machine is not working, or run out of milk.

Just recently I have been taking the disturbing trend of skipping the coffee altogether and having a Red bull. I know- its going to kill my liver one day.

The meeting starts with a safety moment where people just basically talk about their weekend or some idiot on the road. Every now and then something important happens like a big boss comes down to our section and explains some major change.

I work in a train factory, in a section called ‘cabs’. The cab is a fiberglass hull full of electronics that are on the front of the trains.’ We have a contract to build 160 public trains, we are up to 127.

With no further trains planned people in the factory are beginning to get nervous.

This is cabs they go on the front of the public trains

7:00am

Earth wiring

My job for the day is earth wiring, basically I have to cut 50 pieces of varying size wire and place those yellow numbers on each end and put crimps on them.

It’s the easiest task I have to do, but surprisingly repeating the same task like this over and over becomes increasingly difficult the more you do it. The job becomes so repetitive that the only option is to day dream.

During my day dream session today I started to contemplate the politics of trade unionism in the workplace today, discussing finer points with other workers every now and then.

Today’s topic that took center stage was the subject of the American frontier and the vision of a better world or new world. I tried to contrast Australia’s colonial settlement and compare that to the American dream and the ‘Go west ideal’. Basically I decided that Australia never went west it kind of hit a desert and gave up, seeing that vast expanse of desert was just so soul destroying.

I wondered about how this effected the Australian psyche having bugger all arable land to settle on and by then the morning tea bell went off.

Often I dream about art and design seeing I spent a lifetime turning my career around and gaining a degree in Visual communications but today it is the philosophy of the poineering spirit.

9:00am

Morning tea, morning tea is so short that it is hardly worth mentioning. In this time I have a cup of tea and then sometimes just read a little bit of a book if I can.

9:15 -12:30 Fellow workers

This is Junior

This is Junior, he is my main work buddy, usually he is up this ladder. This particular day he was fairly quiet up there because he was on the phone messaging his wife (Nobody can see him).

Junior’s heritage is Maori and from Samoa which I find fascinating to talk about in regards to culture. Junior is a Jehovah’s witness and sometimes I have to navigate very carefully around the subject of religion, mostly Junior is very good about it and we hardly ever talk religion. (He knows I am a fairly ardent atheist). Junior can be very funny and we both are always joking around about different things.

Curly

This is Curly or Keith Boyce, apparently they call him Curly because he has only one hair on his head. Some guys also call him ‘poppy’.

Curly is one of those people of an older generation who is a bit of a know it all. Junior and I often play jokes on Curly which he takes fairly well.

Curly can sometimes be a fun person to be around he always has a story and he usually brings the whole group together in his own way. However he can also be a little bit nasty and small minded. He does from time to time make brutally racist comments which Junior and myself have found very offensive.

12:30-Lunch

Chris at lunch

This is Chris, he sits across from me at lunch and is my fellow electrician. Chris is a very good electrician but he also has the record for being the clumsiest person in our section often tripping or falling over.

He is also probably the most conservative person I have met in this workplace.

We talk about real estate every day even though I find the topic essentially very boring. He often gets very upset over different things and I am basically not allowed to ask him about being Catholic anymore.

Afternoon downhill run -1:00 to 3:30

Different images from the afternoon.

Philosophically minded worker, in the toilet.This is a window where I work, I often look out it and think about abstract art.I have never witnessed anyone bang their head on it yet.Outside the shed-Boring huh!

2:45 packing up and going home!

At the end of this particular day I had to unwrap the wiring loom of these red bubble wrap things, hundreds of them.

Sometimes I have nightmares about this red bubble wrap.

Red bubble wrap I hate you!

Before knocking off we have to ‘colour in’. The colouring in sheet is about bosses being able to keep track of what we are doing.

At first it was a way of saying ‘do your work’ but it is never mentioned anymore so I think now it has become a rough guide for office types who don’t know what the hell we are doing on these trains.

Colouring in sheet

3:30–Home time

Clock out line before knocking offWalking home

4:30pm

I am deciding on building a new deck on the back of my house and Chris the builder spent most of the afternoon planning out exactly what it would look like, it started to rain and you can see the rain drops on our plans.

Plans for deck

5:30pm – Bedtime

I started writing this blog post, editing and re-editing it. Between that I posted a picture of Ling ling on Facebook.

I later paid my registration for the KIA and then ate a toasted sandwich.

This is my day, I could go into more detail about it but it probably really would bore everyone to tears.